Little soldier
by Thira13
Summary: What if Abe's father didn't just try his luck with Hewlett, what if he told Simcoe about Abe being a spy? The outcome would be catastrophic- but would he gain what he wanted? Would Thomas be his and become the true little soldier he always calls him? Not if the Culper ring has anything to say in the matter- nor Washinghton!
1. Chapter 1

It was dark when his boot finally reached the shores of his childhood. Caleb breathed in the sweet air of home and prayed that he would once be able to return to this part of the country again as free man, free from the British and their charges against him and their cause, free to walk on the streets, on American streets without a lobster every five meters trying to kill him. Let's hope Woody and Anna have something good this time, he thought by himself. He really hoped they could kick some lobsters in the ass again like with Lee and Simcoe, for he really wanted to get rid of the Redcoats.

Caleb reached for his pistol that laid behind him in the boat and then for the new coat he borrowed from Ben. The fabric was heavy and thick, probably like the one good old Washington wore himself. He would return it after this trip, of course, but for now, he was more than happy, Ben had left it in is tent. Tallboy was somewhere of for Washington again and even he didn't know where to. Was a bit annoying sometimes but who was he to deny them their new happiness? Caleb grinned. Bennyboy really turned into a lobster every time Caleb mentioned it, so he had his fun after all, too. First name base with the Commander in Chief! Caleb had to whistle even now. To be totally honest, there was nothing there than a hard-earned bit of trust and appreciation between them and only Washington sometimes called Tallboy Benjamin, but where was the fun in that? He grinned to himself and waited for Abe to come and give him a nice gift for good old Washington.

It started to rain mere minutes after he settled into a more or less nice hiding place with a bottle of Madeira that had never seen taxes and of course it only got worse after that. Wind, lighting and more rain. He was soaked to the bone before the damn moon had shown his face- not that Abe did.

"Come on, Woody, where the bloody hell are ya?" Caleb snuggled deeper into the coat and was beginning to wonder if he misread Anna's signal when finally, he heard steps, running actually. What the… He ducked lower and readied his pistol.

"Where are ya?" He whsperd and aimed but lowered his pistol only seconds later. The person running towards him was no one other than Anna Strong.

"Ya gat me worried, Anna!", he exclaimed standing up and was ready to embrace her when he saw the look on her face. "What's wrong?"

Anna brushed curls of hair out of her eyes, her hairdo all but undone and tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop running down her face. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her life like she was now with Caleb- not that she could ever really be happy again, but that was something else.

"Anna?" The whaler grabbed his old friend by the shoulders to stead her, worry leaking into his voice. "What is wrong?"

More tears came, still more tears. "Simcoe… He…"

That devil again. God, they should have shot him when they had the chance. "What did he do?" And only then he realized something else. "Where's Woody?"

Anna sobbed and Caleb suddenly whished he hadn't asked. "He isn't… He can't be! He is in Whitehall. The whole building is swimming with redcoats. No way…" He stopped dead silent. "Hewlett found out!"

Anna shook her head and the words came only slowly out between sobs. "Simcoe… His father found out what… He tried his luck with Hewlett but he… He didn't belived him, so the Major… The bastard went to Simcoe."

Caleb stopped dead. "His own father betrayed him to that monster? He'd gone mad?"

Anna only managed a shrug.

"All right." Caleb scratched the stopples on his chin. "Where did Simcoe bring him? To that André he told us about or…"

"He shot him!" Anna screamed, agony leaking out of her voice. "He shot him right on the spot- at the dinner table."

Caleb blinked, unable to really grasp that information, that… "How is he?"

Anna fell to her knees and sobbed even harder. "He is dead, Caleb, they are all dead. Mary tried to save him, to go between Simcoe and Abe… thought he wouldn't shoot an innocent woman, but…"

Caleb just stood there, unable to think strait. Abe was dead? Abe? But… "I'll kill that bastard!"

"No!" Somewhere Anna seemed to have found a bit of new strength in herself for she got up and grabbed Caleb's hand. "I need to ask a favor of you, of you and Ben."

"What?"

Anna pulled her long floating coat away and Caleb gasped. There, under the fabric, was a little boy. "Keep him safe."

Caleb starred at her. "But we can't have a child in the camp. We could never…"

"I know that there are women in the camp and so are children."

Caleb just starred at young Thomas and nodded not able to find the strength in himself to argue back. "What about you?"

Anna tried to smile but failed miserably when more tears rolled down her cheeks. "I will go back to Setauket."

"You can't! Damn it, Anna, it isn't safe."

But she already shook her head. "I will stay. You need me, now more than ever and I hate them more than ever. My cover is still intact."

Caleb took his coat and swooped little Thomas up and into his arms. "How did ya sneak out anyway?"

Now her face fell yet again. "Caleb, there… there is more. Hewlett… The redcoats have taken up arms and are fighting against the Rangers."

Well, that could only be in their favor if their enemies decided to kill themselves of, couldn't it? But deep down in his stomach Caleb feared for trouble, even more trouble that is.

"I want mommy." Thomas suddenly said and Caleb nearly jumped in shock, startled by the voice and the volume of it. Right, he reminded himself, the boy. Suddenly he wished for Ben. How the hell is he supposed to calm down a child that witnessed his whole family getting shot? Bennyboy is the sensible one after all. He could just recite a Latin poem and bore the child into sleep or something like this.

"Soon, Thomas." Caleb tried to brush the boy of. What shall he say to him later? What to Washington? He looked back at Anna, deciding to get the information first. He needed to organize himself or he surely would fall to pieces like the woman in front of him. God, Abe! "What else, Anna?"

She didn't meet his eyes when she started again and to be true, it didn't help his anxieties. "The reverend heard the shots and came in. He tried to talk reason into Simcoe, he… Simcoe shot him."

Caleb doesn't ask this time how the man is. He can do nothing than looking in absolute horror at Anna. No! "Reverend…"

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "Tell Ben I'm sorry." She wrang her hands in desperation, fresh tears on her cheeks. "God, I'm so sorry."

Something cracks behind them and Caleb raises his pistol on instinct because right now, that's all he is capable of, but Anna shakes her head and pushes a piece of paper into his hand. "Take that and go, I'll be safe."

"Mommy…" Now, that Thomas had started crying again, Caleb knew he couldn't waste another second for a screaming child is a target you just can't miss.

"Be safe, Anna", he called over his shoulder.

"Go!", was the only urgent response while she grabbed his pistol and crouched behind a couple of trees. And going he did.

Caleb grabbed Thomas and swang him into the boat that only seconds later was swimming in the water. He could only pray that it was still quick enough but what good would praying do? God seemed to have left them alone. The reverend, Abe, his wife… the lobsters would pay for that! The idea is the only thing that kept him sane while he rowed like a possessed man away from the place that once had been home, that suddenly seemed a lot darker and sadder then before. A shot rippled the water only an inch away from the boat and more were following. 0Thomas was still crying for his mother, his father and Caleb only then realized, that he too was crying.

Ben dismounted his horse and shook of the raindrops that still clung to his hair. Oh, how he wished for his coat and a good night's rest. The hunt for the deserters to the Brits had taken longer than he had expected and the fight had been bloody but there had to be no doubt that that the Brits had done it. If the news would leak out how the redcoats treated loyalists who tried to turn sites, there would be less to try it. This looked better than hangings due to desertion, especially now when the French were watching. How high Washington valued Versailles he had already discovered so he had done the job, no matter the task. No it only remained to send a patrol tomorrow at the area so that somebody would find his bloody work. He closed his eyes remembering the pleas for mercy and the blood on his hands. He could feel it even now, even though he nearly had skinned his own hand to wash it away. He knew it had to be done and it had to be done quietly so the result was working in their favor, but Ben still felt like vomiting when thinking about his day's work. _God forgive me for I have sinned…_

He patted the horse on the neck and made for his tent and just begged that neither Washington nor Caleb wanted to see him tonight. Tomorrow! Tomorrow he would have battled down his guiled enough to talk to his General and go on with his work like it was expected, like it was needed. But now the guilt pained him even more than the shot he had gotten to his thigh or his bruised rips from when he had fallen of the horse when it had been shot under him. He really had to be thankful the traitors were also travelling by hors or he would have needed to walk back and so close to enemy lines that could easily be a death sentence.

Ben nodded to a couple of officers he knew and declined an offer of a bottle and some talking over a fire and swiftly went into his tent, yet unsure whether he should first change clothes or pray. He was in desperate need for both that was for sure, but on entering his tent he stopped dead. "What is the meaning of this?"

Caleb looked up as soon as he heard his friend enter and god he was relieved to see Ben. The man would be a far better babysitter for Thomas Woodhull than he had been. The child had been whining for the last hours and only minutes ago had cried himself to a fitful sleep. "Bennyboy…"

Benjamin let the cover of the tent go and was nearly at Calebs throat the next second, anger only barely controlled. "What is Culper's son doing in my tent?"

"Ben…"

"Culper's son?" But his anger quickly transformed into an apprehension that felt like he swallowed a snowball, when he saw Caleb's face. No! Where had things gone wrong now again? It just turned out nice after all, so why was the boy here of all places? A thousand possibilities flashed through Ben's mind but none could be, non must be. "Caleb?" He sounded more afraid than angry now.

His friend grabbed him by the head and held him close. That was the moment Ben knew his worst fears were real.

"He is alive, isn't he, Caleb?" Ben's voice wasn't more than a whisper.

He felt Caleb shook his head and froze. Dead… Abe was dead! _You came to enlist me? I'm asking you to fight_. He had killed his own friend. What had he been thinking? His mind needed a few heartbeats to figure out, that Caleb still hadn't let him go. Why hadn't he let him go. What else was there…? God, please! "Anna?"

"She's alright. Both she and her cover. It was… Apparently, Abe's father found it a wise idea to sell his son to the lobsters so he…Well, for Thomas sake! Can't believe he really thought it the right idea."

The Mayor had done what? Ben all but overheard that Abe's cover had been compromised. All he heard was that Woodhull senior had sold his own son to the noose. He thought of Nathan Hale and felt like vomiting. But something was still gnawing on Ben, despite his horror and grief, he still knew that something wasn't right. "Why is Thomas here, Caleb? Where is Mary?" The woman seemed to be so fierce about her son, so loving, when he had been in Setauket that day they freed the prisoners. So why wasn't she with Caleb and Thomas in his tent?

Caleb gulped. "The Mayor went to Simcoe. Monster toke no mercy on anyone. Killed the poor woman on the spot. Anna smuggled the boy out in the upcoming riot. Gave me also some information. Guess it's damn luck I had a late start and came that day."

But Ben wasn't really listening. Intelligence was the furthest thing on his mind right now. He had gotten the poor child orphaned. Suddenly the picture of the boy in his tent was in front of his eyes again, no matter how tight he tried to shut them. Orphaned… He never had the chance to meet Marry Woodhull, but she seemed a fine woman, a fine mother. He got an innocent woman killed, his friend… And still. "There is more, isn't there?" His voice was rough and he guilt now really pushed him down. Caleb crouched before him, still holding him close. God, what else could have happened?

Caleb only reluctantly started to talk again. "When Simcoe killed the Woodhulls he… the shots were heard by neighbors. Your father…"

"No!", whispered Ben as tremors rang through him. He didn't want to hear Caleb say it, he didn't want it to be true. It couldn't be… Father! Tears stream over his cheeks and the words strangled themselves out of his throat like painted sobs. "No, god, no."

Caleb's voice was ever so softly as he held Ben through it, through all of it, giving the crouch of his neck a sympathetic squeeze. "I'm sorry, my friend, I'm so sorry." And then, even softer, when Bens violent sobs died down to silent tears. "My condolences."

Ben merely wept. He had lost his brother to Robert Rogers and the Jersey, where he died like a dog, never able to really grief and now his father… Who shot a reverend? His father hadn't done anything! Why, god, why his father? What else would that war take from him?

Behind him, somebody awkwardly cleared his throat. "Major Tallmadge?"

Not now! Caleb seemed to have the same thought for he grabbed his friend ever so slightly harder, but Ben knew his obligations, no matter the losses. He furiously whipped his tears away and got up. He could do that! Washington needed him and maybe, only maybe it would take his mind of that anguish he felt inside himself right now. He… Ben whipped his face again. "Yes, lieutenant?"

The man still looked a bit quizzically between Caleb and Ben but thankfully he held his tongue for now. "The Commander in Chief wants to see you, sir."

Ben nodded and stopped Caleb from speaking up. "I'll go there right away."

Caleb bit his lip and gave Ben the letter he had gotten from Anna. It suddenly all seemed so unimportant, so damn unimportant but Ben, ever the faithful soldier of Washington took it and left for the general. Caleb only begged it would end well.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben walked through the camp, slowly reading Anna's letter but still not really grasping the meaning of the words. He tried though, he really did. He had to give Washington something, something better than a dead… he swallowed. Culper was dead, he tried in his mind, but still flinched by the thought, let alone the thought of voicing it. 722 is dead, he tried and it was easier, only a number, not his childhood friend. The lie was the last grasp that kept him sane. Still, he had a failure and a head of intelligence, who was of no use at the moment, to report. Ben whipped over his face and wished he could turn around and bury his face in a pillow. His grip on the letter tightened as he fought the memories that tried to take his thoughts over once more.

Abe sneaking to Anna for a kiss after Caleb and Ben themselves had talked some bravery into him.

His father preaching while a younger version of him listening in awe.

Abe congratulating him on his acceptance into Yale.

His father holding Samuel and him close over their mother's grave, promising them to never leave them.

Abe teaching him how to swim in the river.

His father hugging him after the battle of Setauket, proud of his son.

Ben tired himself away from these thoughts. He just re-earned Washington's trust, he couldn't lose it now, not with Anna depending on him and he needed this task, he needed to pay them back. For Abe, for little Thomas, for his father!

The lifeguard that stood watch at the general's tent waved him silently in and Ben steeled himself against whatever would come. A yelling general was something we had been getting used to after all. Abe…

"Sir."

Washington was standing over a table studying a map of the known troop positions of the British and slowly moving a wooden prick over the map, clearly planning where to strike next. Ben stood back and waited. He had learned his lesson to interrupt Washington in these moments- he actually had learned his lesson about speaking up at all and he would try not to anger the general today for Ben was pretty sure he couldn't handle yet another lecture of the general. He just could deal with more right now.

"Major?"

He looked up, somehow confused. The Commander in Chief sounded like he had already said something before and Ben felt his control slowly slipping by the thought of that. He casted his eyes down, desperately trying to save the situation somehow. "I apologize, sir. I was lost in thoughts. It won't happen again."

Washington merely nodded and Ben couldn't believe, the man had let him off the leash with such a lousy excuse. "The task I gave you?"

Right, the hunt for deserters. "They are dead, sir, and it will look like the redcoats did it. A patrol is set to find them tomorrow."

Washington's expression was unreadable as always, not giving away yet if he approved of Ben's work. "How many where there?"

Ben clasped his arms behind his back. "Six, sir, but only two bodies will be found. I dragged the others to a nearby lake and weighted them down with stones so no-one will ever know the extent of it. We can simply register them as missing on an extra patrol that we asked them to ride."

The general granted him a rare sign of approval. "Thank you, Benjamin."

Ben wasn't sure if it was the approval or the use of his Christian name, but he suddenly just wished for his father like a little child. He wished for a bit of comfort, now even more than if he would have been reprimanded. "Sir", he managed.

Washington studied the major silently and Ben was suddenly aware again of his bloody and dirt strained clothes. He should have changed before that meeting! "Sir, I apologize…"

Washington circled around the desk with the maps he had still been studying while Ben had given his report and came to a halt in front of the young officer who in return nearly flinched away under the gaze of his superior. A rather strange behavior given his normal temperament and fire that made him battle even the decisions of the Commander in Chief of the Continental army, the general thought by himself and his brow furrowed. What had happened? "Are you hurt?

He… He didn't know. The wound on his thigh had stopped bleeding he supposed and his rips hadn't punctured a lung yet but he wasn't sure if that was all. A trip to the doctors hadn't been on his list right now. After all, he was still standing.

"Benjamin?"

Ben looked down, biting his lip at the sudden softer tone to Washington's voice, wishing for privacy and the possibility of grief, that wasn't to be found in the general's tent. Washington had after all been more than direct about their relationship. "Nothing serious."

In the meantime, Washington had studied him doubtfully, wondering whose blood it actually was that stained the Major's uniform- especially the right side of his bridges that wasn't beige at all but of a crimson brownish dark. "I assume you will let a doctor look you over after our conversation."

Bewildered Ben nodded. Had Washington really just shown some concern for his health? He dismissed the thought, still having the man's words in his ears. _I am not your father and you are not my son._ Better not to entertain the thought of the general carrying again. He cringed, knowing that soon Washington would show concern about something else anyway- his capability as head of intelligence for example. But his father had been so proud about him…

"Major!"

Ben's head snapped up. "I ap…"

"I see. If you are that unwell, I will send for a doctor immediately but if not, I ask you to focus on the conversation."

Great, he angered him yet again. "Yes sir."

"So? Do I need to send for a doctor?"

Ben shook his head, unable to look the man in the eyes. Get a grip on yourself, Tallmadge.

Washington stepped away from him and bent over the desk once more. "I heard your courier has returned. What news from Culper."

That was too much. Ben felt tears form in his eyes and was more than thankful the general was facing away from him. Grip, Tallmadge, get a grip! He couldn't fall to pieces in front of that man. He was a soldier, after all. "He…" Ben swallowed and tried to speak again but couldn't find his voice.

Luckily Washington was currently still occupied with the map and hadn't bothered to turn around. "We need more news about York City. With a bit of luck and the French we might risk taking the city and freeing it from the British like we did with Philadelphia", Washington murmured more to himself than to Ben. "Tell Culper we…"

"Culper is dead, sir." Ben didn't even realize he just had interrupted his general for he was only happy he found his voice again- and that he finally managed to say the words, hoping he would never again have to say them aloud. God, Abe…

"He is what?"

Ben cringed at Washington's tone. "He is dead, sir."

Washington walked over to his head of intelligence again. "I heard you the first time, Major." His tone softened. "What about your friend?"

Ben just shook his head, trying to compose himself again.

"How? And what of our other…"

"Her cover is intact and she is unharmed", Ben quickly answered and Washington nodded silently, urging him with a gesture to continue. He needed to know how they had lost their first and best man. It was a bitter way to learn but he knew it was necessary. Nathan Hale's death had been no different.

"Culper's father became aware of his identity and went to the British to see him hanged. The Captain that acted on his accusation shot Culper and his wife, starting a riot in city." His voice become laden with emotions as he spoke, even though he didn't voice all the things that had happened. _They killed my father…_

"Your courier is unharmed?"

Ben nodded and whished Washington would dismiss him now that he knew everything. He didn't know how long he could keep his composure anymore.

"Then sent him back there to bring us news about our remaining agent. I don't want to lose another one."

"Yes, sir." Then he remembered the letter Caleb had given him. "We also got another report from Long island", he said, offering the letter to Washington.

"What does it say?"

Ben closed his eyes. Yet again another failure. "I… I haven't managed to read it properly, yet, sir." He could only hope Washington wouldn't ask further. He didn't want to lye and his excuse was, in the eyes of a general, probably as bad as it could get.

But Washington remained silent and only studied him yet again with an intensity as he took the letter from Ben and read it while the major waited for the inevitable rebuke.

"This is good intelligence, Major."

Ben blinked. What? "Thank you, sir."

Another long silence in which Washington's glance lay on him. Why couldn't the man just dismiss him? "Sir, if that's all I…"

"Stay." It was a quiet command but someone like Washington didn't need to raise his voice to make it final.

Ben let out a shaky breath and nodded slowly. What else could he do after all? He just wished the general would let him go soon. He didn't just feel like crying now, he felt like fainting to be totally honest.

His gaze sill on Ben, Washington suddenly spoke up. "Billy, sent for doctor."

Ben starred at Washington in horror. "Sir, what… Are you injured? Why hadn't you said…"

A small smile tugged at the corners of the general's mouth. "Me? No! You are. Sit down, Major, before you collapse."

Ben let himself fall onto one of the chairs, thankful and for once not caring about the dirt he might leave on it.

"I think I assumed correctly that you wouldn't see a doctor otherwise so… What is that child doing here?"

Ben's head whipped around and to his horror he saw young Thomas in the tent, looking up at them. Ben was mortified. Couldn't Caleb watch him for five more minutes? "I apologize, General, he is…"

Washington raised an eyebrow. "Your son? Not much resemblance nor your character."

Ben took a deep breath. There was no other way than to tell the general the truth now. "He is Culper's son. Our contact was able to save the boy and demanded that we look after him."

"I see."

That short response could only mean one thing. "I should have said something before, sir, I apologize, but…"

"Your mind was elsewhere, I understand."

"Want mommy."

Ben got up to pick Thomas up and hush him, not wanting to anger Washington further but Thomas reached him first, obviously remembering him from the time he was in his tent. The child was so scared of all the new things and people, he reached out for the only familiar thing he could find right now, not caring how short he actually had known Ben. Unfortunately, he did so quite literally, for he grabbed Ben's leg for support, accidently brushing over the shot wound the major had sustained in the fight with the deserters. Ben blinked franticly, trying to clear his vision that had suddenly become spotted with black dots, threatening to take over. He groaned softly, not realizing he had fallen to his knees. It was only due to Washington rushing to his side that his head didn't smash into the ground. Faintly he heard the child crying even louder. "Thomas, it's alright", he hushed softly.

A hand held him down when he tried to get up for the boy again. "You should concern yourself with your own health right now, Major. Why haven't you said something before?"

Ben looked up to find his face only inches away from Washington's. He gulped. That was exactly what he had dreaded. Why hadn't the general dismissed him earlier? He felt the blood shoot into his cheeks as he tried to scratch the rest of his dignity together and get up no matter how much he wished for the comfort of a friend, because this was his general, not his friend or his… his father. Ben wasn't sure he silenced the sob entirely. "Sir, I…"

"I said stay, Major, don't make me repeat myself."

Ben nodded and tried to avoid the general's eyes. This was pathetic! He literally collapsed into the arms of his commanding officer. If not bound by an oath, he would resign on the spot and run as far as he could.

"Your Excellency, you have requested…" The doctor stopped dead on his feat the moment he caught sight of Washington. "Sir, what are you doing on the floor? Is it that urgent?"

Washington looked up and nodded a short thank you to Billy before he addressed the doctor. "It is not me, who is unwell. The major here collapsed while giving his report."

Sighting the doctor crouched next to them. "Tallmadge, I see. Shouldn't be surprised, I guess. I'll take it from here, sir."

But as the doctor gave Billy a wink to help him lift the major, Washington interjected. "You will examine him here and no-one will hear about it, did I make myself clear?"

The doctor tried to protest, but the general simply cut him off. Tallmadge had been riding out on a scouting mission, as far as anyone was concerned, a lite patrol. If he was to be injured on this, there would be questions asked that neither of them wanted to circle around camp.

"Excuse the question, sir, but what is that child doing here?", the doctor suddenly asked, halfway through undressing the major who tried desperately not to wince whenever something touched his rips.

Ben tried to send Washington a message with his eyes but the general wasn't looking so all he could do was silently praying that god would have mercy with them this time.

"That boy is my concern." The general's voice allowed no further questions or delays and so did Ben soon find himself in the strange situation of a health check in the general's command tent with Washington somewhere in the back, watching the whole thing with an unreadable expression.

When the doctor exited the tent to fetch a needle for Ben's leg, the general crouched once more down next to him and put a hand on the major's shoulder. "My condolences regarding your friend, Major, and my apology. I had promised to keep him safe, him and the other members."

Ben didn't trust his voice enough to speak but he nodded his thanks. Condolences… That was the second time today he received them. Two dead dear ones. It should have been him, not them, not a father and simple farmer, who only became a spy because of him, Benjamin, nor his father, who only wanted to help and save innocent lives. It wasn't Washington's turn to apologize, it was his.

Before the doctor returned, Washington sent Billy to fetch Caleb so he could carry his friend back to his tent after he had been patched up again. Then he looked down at the pale face of the boy in front of him, wondering what else was bothering the major for he was even more quiet and unsure then after that reprimand he had given him over their argument regarding Lee. "It was not your fault, Benjamin", he finally said, but he could see that the major didn't believe him. Sighting Washington stood up again so the doctor could not give any report about their unusual closeness considered their ranks. He wouldn't risk yet another life of one of his spies. Instead he studied the still crying toddler on the floor. What to do with Culper's son, he wondered. What to do?


	3. Chapter 3

Caleb couldn't stop laughing once Ben laid secure on his bed, clapping his hands together like a child that had become a very nice present. "You did really? Come on, Bennyboy, he literally adopted you with this, you know that, don't you? Commander in Chief General George Washington was concerned for your health and stayed with you through a health check?" He chuckled, the alcohol in which he had tried to drown his grieve over Abe clearly audible in his voice.

Ben's mouth didn't even twitch. Yeah, he had embarrassed himself and yeah, Washington had been unusually friendly to him, nearly showing something like comradery, but Ben knew better and even if Washington had intended to act in such a way, Ben couldn't care today, not today. He had too much on his plate already. "When did Thomas wander off?", he simply asked, trying to get the boy settled into bed next to him for there was simply no other place to put the child.

Caleb took another deep gulp from his flask. "Dunno. He was gone before even you left I guess. Boy is a troublemaker, much like Abe was in that age." He shook his head and a look of sorrow washed over his face, the joking from before all but gone. "To Abe!"

Ben just tucked the sheets around the child and wondered how to make him stop crying. Maybe he should try a story, something light and happy. He wandered briefly if a classic tale or the bible would be too dark for the boy. Maybe he should just tell him of his father as a boy. He whipped the tears on Thomas face away and held him close, feeling like joining him in the cry.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt anyway, Tallboy?", Caleb asked suddenly. "That must have been quite the bleeding if you faint. Hadn't been that affected by a wound since the bee that stung you."

Because he… it had been bleeding while he rode back but the bullet merely had grazed him so he never thought it serious and then… What was a gunshot to the leg compared to one to the heart? Or three hearts?

Thomas looked up with big eyes, full of tears and even though he clanged to Bens shirt like a drowning man to the only hope of survival, he only said two words. Two words, that cut into Ben's heart like no Tory could ever do. "Want mommy."

Yeah, he wanted that woman too right now, Ben thought. Her and Abe and his father, all of them safe in Setauket. "Your mother can't come right now, Thomas, but she loves you." He stroked the boys head and tried a smile. "She and your father, they love you more than anything." He wasn't sure if he used the present for Thomas sake or his own.

"You good on your own, Benny?" Caleb suddenly asked, grabbing Ben by the shoulder, concern evident in his voice.

"It is knitted together and wasn't deep. I just…"

"Are you alright though?"

Ben avoided Caleb's eyes, tears threatening to spill out. "Why?"

Caleb's brow furrowed. "You heard him, haven't you? I have to go back and look out for Anna, make sure she isn't harmed."

At that Ben's head shot up. He had all but forgotten about that. "No!"

"Sorry, Bennyboy, but your outranked I'm afraid."

"Caleb, please… Tell her to stop. I can't ask this of her anymore. Abe… it already cost one life and that is a far higher price than I ever calculated." God, what had he been thinking? He had known after all, he had seen with Nate were this would lead. He had gotten Abe killed, even though he had promised him to keep him safe.

At that, Caleb grabbed Ben's head and literally forced his friend to look at him. "You think they did this for you, Tallboy? Use that pretty head of yours, will you? Anna is fed up with the redcoats and so was Abe. He went to prison and kept his mouth shut. Not for you, not for Washington or for duty, but because he believed in it. I tried to save the bastard, remember? He refused. After all the trouble, he refused, so don't think you can stop any of us." With that he gave Ben a light clap on the cheek and stood up. "I'll watch out for her. Just make sure there is still a major to report to, when I return, so listen to the doctors and don't do anything foolish. Don't want to hear you fainted again in front of the big man." And with that he was gone.

Damn it! Ben stared at the chair on which Caleb had sat only seconds ago and suddenly longed for the comfort of a good drink if only to forget the day and get at least a bit of rest, but he couldn't. Instead he hugged the crying child next to him and prayed for the souls of the people he lost and for forgiveness. Only hours later, when the boy had fallen asleep due to exhaustion, it struck him that he might never be able to pray at his father's grave, nor pay him his respects. There, alone in his tent, Ben finally allowed the tears to come.

The next morning was torture. He was bone tired and his leg was… Well, he could stand on it, yes, but it wasn't pleasant, even less so with Thomas clinging to him wherever he went. One or two of his men laughed at him and a lot of the camp followers, especially the women, whispered behind his back, but none actually helped him while he tried to deal with the boy. The problems already started with cloths. Where on earth was he supposed to gather cloths for young Thomas? He couldn't wear the one he had worn when Caleb brought him here forever after all. But Ben figured another day wouldn't hurt.

Ben tried his best though. He worked through the intelligence reports and letters with Thomas on the floor of his tent, playing with the wooden ship Mr. Sackett had ordered to be made once. Ben was lucky now that he had kept it, even though it was yet another dark memory but Thomas liked it, so who was he to complain?

The day went on while he read letter over letter, that was meant to cross into enemy territory or came from there, searching for codes, for hidden meanings, for intelligence. They were in desperate need for new leads and he knew he would need to find a new source soon, yet another point on the long lists of tasks that Washington required from him. Maybe he should just resign from the post and spare the commander yet another failure of his.

Thomas, on the other hand, hadn't said a word yet other than him wanting his mother and Ben felt the whole responsibility weighting him down. He wasn't even sure if the boy ate enough. Ben had no younger siblings and -truth be told- no idea how to handle a child. No story he had told Thomas the other night had made the boy laugh or talk, not even the lullaby Ben had tried to hum for him in pure desperation. The love letter of a Mary Summerset lay all but forgotten in front of him while he wondered what he should do with Thomas.

It was one of his dragoons that finally tore his gaze away from the boy. The men entered in a hurry, not even bothering to knock. "Major Tallmadge."

Ben looked up and gave the man a stern look when the dragoon's gaze wandered to Thomas, not wanting to have that talk once again. "Yes?"

"We found Bennet and Anderson, sir. They are dead, killed by the Brits it seems."

Ben schooled his face into an expression of shock. "Dead?" And the show began.

After he had convinced the man that the other missing men had been sent into another direction to patrol an area where riots were said to have arisen, he dismissed the man, hoping the gossip about the deserters would spread through the camp soon, and tried to concentrate on Miss Summersets love again, wondering if he had missed a newer encryption method when he came to a passage that made him blush deeply, for no young lady could write such a thing in a letter and not mean something entirely different by it, he was sure of it. He was trying out several known methods and working out a new one, when yet again somebody entered his tent.

"Sir!" Ben hastily got up to show his respect, but Washington waved him of.

"Sit, Major, I don't think we should repeat yesterday evening."

A flush crept over his face as Ben sank down on his chair again. "I wanted to apologize for that incident again, Sir, I…"

Washington silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Has your plan regarding the patrol worked?"

Ben was all too happy to dismiss the events of yesterday and concentrate on the current situation. "Yes, sir. The lieutenant in charge of the patrol gave his report only an hour ago and by now there should be talk of that throughout the whole camp. I convinced him that the rest were sent to a village suspected of rioting so we might have to send another patrol in that area to question the people for the whereabouts of them to maintain the cover."

Washington nodded quietly, more than satisfied with how the boy had turned out after a bit of nudging in the right direction. To be honest he was nearly proud and was about to address the actual reason for his arrival when he spotted Culper's son on the floor. Irritated he looked up. "What is that child doing here?"

Between tiredness and grieve, Ben didn't even bother to defend his actions. He just hoped that his luck with Washington's good mode would continue for today's failure. "I'm sorry, sir, but I had nowhere else to put him."

A frown worked itself on Washington's face. "We are at war, Major."

Ben looked down and nodded silently, hoping Washington's tone wouldn't frighten Thomas for the recent calm was such a relieve, even if it had cost him a fortune to buy these apples the boy had wanted. Fruits were expansive in the winter. "Yes, sir."

The problem was, that he agreed with Washington on this. The camp of the Continental army was no place to raise a child, especially without his parents. What had Anna been thinking?

Washington was a man of command, of status and of dignity, who kept the people around him on their toes. He wasn't cruel or unfair, but besides with Arnold, Ben had never seen the man share a friendly gesture or conversation. His smiles were always hard won and even Ben, who thought of himself a good major and a loyal soldier, had to fight for the mere absents of a reprimand. Who, on the other hand, didn't have to fight for them at all, was Thomas Woodhull it seemed. The boy had forsaken his game with the wooden ship to stumble over to the general and to Ben's horror was no clinging to his leg, looking up with that big blue eyes- and Washington smiled down at him. "Looks like we got ourselves a little patriot. And he seems to already plans a carrier in our not existing navy. I'm sure the enemies of this nation already tremble a then sound of his name."

Ben was too dumbstruck to answer. Did Washington just made a joke and allowed the boy to cling to him like he would to a toy? "What can I do or you, sir?", he finally managed to say, still not able to look away, as Thomas smiled up at the older man.

Washington looked up and a shadow of that smile he had given Thomas was still on his face. "Dine with me tonight, Benjamin. I have several things to discuss with you and it seems like your attention is needed elsewhere right now. Have these letters already been read and searched?"

Dine? With the commanding officers? He hadn't partaken in such a reward since the meal he offered Arnold his place, his arguments with Washington had made sure of this. So he schooled his face into a smile, no matter his actual feelings. It was, after all, more than generous of the general. "I'm honored, sir. The left pile is finished. With the others, I still try to find replays so we can match partners and compare the handwriting to future letters and filter out the few, that do not match in the content and should be investigated further." Before Washington could take the letters and go, Ben pulled himself together and asked quietly. "What of the boy, sir?"

Washington looked down to where Thomas still held onto him, smiling like he hadn't done all day and yet another smile crept over the general's face. "Bring him tonight."

"Sir?"

"It is not like he actually can go to the British and give over intelligence right now. We will have to find a solution though."

Ben inclined his head, thanking god, that he had some mercy with him after all, while Washington reached down and pealed young Thomas from his leg, giving the boy an affectionate ruffle through the hair. "Has he eaten yet, Major?", he asked suddenly.

This question lured the first normal words from Thomas mouth since losing his parents- a task, Ben couldn't accomplish even with storytelling or cuddling. "Apples."

Washington merely nodded, sending the major a glance, that Ben couldn't really decipher, no matter how good he was with the letters of the British. "I see. See to it, that the boy isn't the only one to eat. I expect you at 7pm at the mansion, the local mayor has provided us."


	4. Chapter 4

It took all his sense of duty to get up in the evening and take Thomas to Washington's house. A duty that was probably even given as a reward but today it felt like a court martial to Ben. Why had Caleb had to go? He really was in the need of a friend right now.

The child, on the other hand, had been rather calm after the general's visit what had only given Ben time and silence to brood over his own father's death. It had been months since he saw him last, years since he really talked to him, ate with him. Ben wearily rubbed his face. God, he missed him so much! Ben wished he could withdraw himself from the world like Thomas had done, brood and grieve, but it was out of question for a man and soldier, especially after being summand by the general, so he brushed Thomas hair, tried to straighten up his uniform knowing full well he wouldn't be good dinner company today but after all, he never really did speak much in the presence of the other officers who all outranked him and looked down on him like he was some kind of pet of Washington, so they probably wouldn't catch the difference. Why he had to drack Thomas with him though he didn't know.

"Where are we going?"

The simple sentence made Ben smile. At least one of them seemed to heal and he was glad it was the boy for he was the true victim of all this mess. Ben himself probably should simply volunteer on a mission into enemy territory and be done with. If only he would have done it sooner, then Abe would still be alive. "To General Washington." As Thomas only blinked he added quickly: "The nice man that came to us today."

"I like him", was the honest reply, that left Ben somehow speechless. He suddenly wished that all Tory raised boys would think like Thomas so this war would be over soon.

The walk with Thomas took longer than he had expected for the boy was slow and tried to run off several times when he saw something that caught his eye. In the end, Ben carried him the rest of the way so they wouldn't be too late. There was no reason to give more insult by being late than most officers would take by the mere presence of the boy.

The house was a beautiful mansion that looked out of place between all the tents that were gathering around it. Riches and wealth were evidently to everyone and Ben found himself trying to straighten his uniform once more in the presence of so much grandeur.

Billy, Washington's personal servant, welcomed them on the doorstep and waved him in with a smile. "They are waiting for you, Major."

Ben tried to return the smile but it wasn't really convincing, not even to him. Thomas on the other hand seemed quite taken by the house and Billy- probably because it reminded him of the home he used to have. Would it really have hurt the child to leave him with his Tory grandfather, Ben wondered. Sure, the man had gotten Abe killed but he loved his grandchild- and hopefully the war would be over before Thomas could ever enlist. Truth be told, Ben didn't know if the boy was better of here.

While they followed Billy to the dining room, Ben hoped the resemblance to Thomas' old home wouldn't trigger any new waves of grieve from the child. He cared little for the responses the other guests might give but for Thomas. The boy had had enough heartbreak for a lifetime.

"Major Tallmadge has arrived, sir", Billy announced.

At this, Washington came through the door to greet him, even going so far as to grab his hand and give it a friendly squeeze, something he had never done before, not even after Ben had rescued his life. "Benjamin, I'm glad you could make it."

Ben blinked, silenced by the sudden warm welcome he wasn't used to. Hadn't he been summand by Washington, he wondered. Of course he would make it then! But why was Washington abandoning his other guests for him? Even with the friendlier terms they were on right now, there was no way the general could show this… this affection for lack of better words in front of the other generals. Most didn't even really know about Ben's special position for the safety of their own spies and even to those who knew better, he remained a low major in rank.

"Hello Thomas." Washington crouched down in front of the boy and also shook his hand mockingly serious, what made the boy giggle happily in return.

Ben stared at his general, wondering if he had missed something. Why in the name of god was Washington behaving like this? Had the wound be severe enough for him to fall into a fever and hallucinate? "Sir?"

"Pray, don't let him stand there all night, George. The food is getting cold and the boy is hungry I suppose."

Was that… a woman? Ben tried to straighten his uniform once more, a look on his face that bordered on horror. "Sir, I…"

But Washington waved him of and all but pushed him into the room. "Come now, Major."

In the room, there was not the commanding staff as Ben had expected but a single woman that seemed strangely familiar like somebody he had met once but he couldn't place a name to the face. Brown hair, a smiling face and dark, warm eyes. She was pretty even though not the youngest anymore and Ben approached her with all the respect that had been trilled into him, holding out his hand for her. "Madame. Major Tallmadge, at your service." He bowed, hoping his lack of words or names would be covered up by this and that he hadn't just insulted her with an address beneath her status. Silently, he wondered who she was. Maybe a lady of society that Washington wanted to be briefed about a spying method due to a redcoat in her home or a husband loyal to the crown or that had come forwards with an offer of support. He knew the general had had several of this meetings in the past, but why did he then require his present- or that of Thomas?

The woman turned around and threw a nearly angry look at the Commander in Chief, her brown curls, that had been laid in a complex hairstyle bouncing at the motion. "My, George, do you always have your friends stand on protocol? The boy looks like he is ready to ride into battle and certainly not against pork. Surely this isn't necessary."

Ben gasped bewildered at her. Who was she to speak to the general in this mocking, nearly insulting way? His temper got the better of him. "I'm sorry, Madame, but you are mistaken. I am no friend but a major under his command and not only protocol but also my manners and my respect to the general demand this from me. However, if my presence makes you uncomfortable…"

"Benjamin."

The soft word made the major stop at once and lower his gaze, not daring to look over to Washington. A blush rose over his cheeky. "My apologies", he mumbled.

Washington chuckled lightly at this. "There is none needed. Now that you have stopped defending my honor, may I introduce you to my wife, Major?"

Ben turned all but scarlet, letting the redcoats color fade in comparison and bowed again, deep enough to make it appropriate for a queen this time. "It is an honor, my lady."

She inclined her head, a genuine smile on her face. "The honor is mine, Major. I have heard many good things about you."

At that Ben did dare a look over to Washington who was smiling nearly fondly at the scene in front of him. But after all, it could also just have been Thomas he was sending that smile to.

"You flatter me, my lady", mumbled Ben, wondering what she could have been told. His insubordination? He was sure only Caleb considered that his best quality, but what else was there to tell? From Washington most of all?

Mrs. Washington laughed warmly at Ben's reply. "Do all your boys have such good manners, George? I wasn't aware they were taught anything else then how to fight."

"I'm afraid not, my love, but the Major here is something special after all. Yale, wasn't it?"

Ben could only nod. What was he doing here? He hadn't known that Washington's wife had joined them and he couldn't understand why he of all people had been asked to come here- nor did he understand the sudden change in Washington's behavior towards him. He only knew one thing: He couldn't excuse himself from that company as quickly as he had actually planned. It would be rude even more given the fact that he was the only guest. Why was he the only guest?

"And who is this?", asked Mrs. Washington, delight clear on her face as she noticed Thomas and waved at the boy, who looked over first to Ben and then to Washington, clearly unsure what to make of yet another stranger's face.

Ben's eyes flickered to the general. What did his wife know about her husband's actions- what of Ben's involvement in them? Spies weren't liked or appreciated even if they were the own ones, nor was lady to be bothered with that kind of talk.

Seeing that Benjamin would remain silent, Washington stepped in. "That, Martha, is Thomas. He is the son of two fine people, who were loyal to our cause and killed for it. Murdered one might say. They were childhood friends of Benjamin."

Ben all but bit through his cheek while he received yet again more condolences, from Mrs. Washington this time. He was so lost in his own thoughts, he missed Washington's gaze, that never left him.

The meal was good, Ben supposed, roasted pork, potatoes and carrots, things he hadn't tasted in ages, but, truth be told, the taste was wasted on him. His only pleasure this evening was to see Thomas eat eagerly while he tried to act as was expected of him, even though it became harder by the minute.

The potatoes smelled like the campfire he had once built with Abe and Caleb back in Setauket when they had been younger. They had roasted potatoes over the flames and Caleb hadn't been able to stop talking about adventures, foreign lands and glory while Abe had been dreaming about Anna.

Luckily, his quietness was not much of an offense for Mrs. Washington who was eagerly chatting with Thomas, not at all offended by the short replies of the boy and smiled like she had the best evening in ages. Maybe that was what this was about after all, Ben thought: The boy. Washington seemed to have taken a liking in him and probably wanted to see him well cared for. His ignorance towards children must have been more than obvious than.

"Major?"

Ben's head snapped up and he realized with horror, that he had ignored his general yet again. "I'm sorry, sir."

Washington only nodded and studied the young man in front of him- and the nearly untouched food. "Martha, why don't you take the boy and look, if Billy can make some apple broth for Thomas as desert."

His wife took the hint without even blinking and held her hand out for Thomas. "What do you think, Thomas?"

The boy was more than eager to come along. Maybe it was the fact that she was a woman, maybe Ben just really was bad with children but it kind of hurt. He only now realized that he had desperately tried to do right with Thomas after he had failed Abe- just like Abe had tried to make it up for the death of his brother and just like Abe he had failed in it.

As soon as the door closed behind Washington's wife and Thomas, Ben stiffened and waited for Washington to speak his mind. Given the fact that Ben hadn't spoken more than a handful of sentenced over dinner and picked through his food was after all reason enough to anger any man, let alone Washington who hadn't invited him for such an insult- not that Ben had figured out why he had been here for.

"You are quiet tonight", the general calmly observed, taking a sip of wine and studying Ben over the edge of the glass, expression unreadable as always.

Ben gulped and bowed his head, because he had nothing else to say than the sentence that seemed to be his new always needed response. "I apologize, Your Excellency."

Washington got up and walked over to the major who in return stumbled to his feet, hissing softly in the progress. Worry clouded Washington's face at the sight of this. "Does your wound still trouble you? I can send for the doctor again."

Yesterday still vivid in is mind, Ben shook his head. Even if only an inch from dying, he wouldn't repeat yesterday again- never! "No, Your Excellency."

The truth was, that it would have been easy to blame the wound for his behavior, but Ben had once told Washington he would never lie to him and he wouldn't start now for fear of a well-deserved rebuke. He had it coming after all.

Washington's eyes narrowed but he remained silent, waiting for Ben to continue.

"If I might be so bold to ask, sir. What was it, you wanted to discuss with me?"

But this time, Washington didn't let him get away with his behavior. "No excuse for your behavior, Major, no reason?"

The subtle use of his rank didn't go unnoticed by Ben and he stiffened even more. It might sound like a hint but was nothing short of a command. Still, he knew better now. "Better no excuse than a bad one"

Ben's words had been only a whisper, not really meant for any ears, let alone the general's, but Washington heard them nevertheless and a sight escaped him. His words… The boy had understood anything, his behavior, him not acting on Lee's obvious betrayal, the intelligence Ben showed him, but it seemed like he never understood why Washington had said these words. "But I ask for your reason, not an excuse, Benjamin."

Ben looked away, not trusting his face to remain calm, collected as he began. It was a report, nothing more. A report that Washington would let through on a nod before continuing with his actual reason to summon Ben here. "The riot that was started over Culper's death… The first victim was my father."

"Benjamin..."

"I know, sir", the you major quickly said, "there have been more losses and it is no excuse…"

"Ben!"

The young major fell silent at the use of the nick name that Washington only had used once before. What the general meant by it, he didn't know though. He flinched at the thought of the punishment, he might enfore on him for failing the general yet again.

A heavy hand landed on Ben's shoulder and when the young major looked up, he found himself face to face with Washington. He blinked the tears away and tried to compose himself. "Sir?"

Washington gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Have I been so cold as to really get you to believe your personal loss wouldn't matter?"

Ben gulped and quickly tried to avoid an answer. The question was rhetorical after all and insulting Washington wasn't a thing he wanted to do- ever! No matter the reasons. "You have other things to worry about. The war, the finances, the ring…"

"You are part of this ring, 721", come the soft reply.

"I am head of intelligence, I am not important, merely a soldier…"

"Ben."

He fell silent again and was rendered speechless, when Washington gave his shoulder yet another squeeze, accompanied with a serious look. "Come now, sit down. I think it is time, we do talk with each other."

"Sir?"

But Washington just pushed the major gently onto his seat again and took the chair opposite of him. "You have without doubt wondered why I had asked you here." As Ben nodded, the general continued. "And to what conclusion did you come?"

"Conclusion, sir?"

At this, Washington raised a brow in amusement. "Come now, I have seen often enough for myself that you have a quick mind and an opinion to nearly everything, so I ask of you again: Why do you think I have asked you to join me and my wife for dinner?"

"For the boy's sake, sir?"

Now Washington even chuckled as if Ben had made a good joke. "The boy? If I would want to dine with Thomas, don't you think I could easily ask you to bring him and leave afterwards?" He let the major think about his words for a while before he continued. "But I didn't. I asked you and only later told you to bring the boy."

"You wanted to discuss something with me", was Ben's conclusion after that even though it sounded more like a guess. "What was it, sir?"

"I am doing that right now." Washington smiled at the young major and this time there was no Thomas around to take the blame. Ben didn't seem to know where to look under the sign of affection. He really hadn't praised the boy a lot, Washington thought to himself, but that much doubt? Why was Ben so loyal to him if he thought his general appreciated him so little? It really was time they talked it seemed. "I'm afraid by pushing you to your best I never made clear, that you have my respect, Benjamin, and that you have my friendship." The glance the boy shot him at that was heartbreaking and Washington remembered all too well the way he had looked after the reprimand all that months back. That was yet another down sight when fighting a war with what all to often seemed like children to him. "I need your best as an officer and as head of intelligence, to win this war and protect both the army and myself, but I want you as you are as a confidant. There has been much treachery in this war but you have always been loyal. Headstrong and short-minded sometimes but loyal even in the face of your own death and not just loyal to the cause, but to me."

Ben was nearly embarrassed for all the praise Washington suddenly gave him and stuttered a humble reply, all too well aware that his latest behavior was not to praise, but Washington stopped him with a small gesture.

"I might have to be hard to my men to lead them, but I was there for Arnold when he was wounded and later framed, I was there…"

"I am hardly General Arnold."

A small smile tucked at Washington's lips. "I might be older than you, Major, but I am not blind. So rest assured I do not show affection due to confusion. Now, do I have your word that you will come to me the next time you suffer like this, either from a gun wound or a more personal thing?"

Ben could only nod and Washington once again reached for his arm and gave him a squeeze. "I stand by my opinion, it was not your fault, nor are you doing wrong with the boy."

"You seem to have spies in camp that I am yet unaware of, sir, but I'm afraid, their report is biased at best." It was a light attempt of a joke and Washington smiled at the try. Grieve was something natural, especially after losing your last family member, but what the boy had been doing wasn't healthy. He of all people knew where dark thoughts would lead you- and he didn't wish that for Benjamin.

"My friendship doesn't mean you get to see all my cards, Major, or otherwise you would get out of practice with guessing and spying. Now", he stood up and grabbed a glass of wine. "I think we shall save Billy from Thomas and my wife, so he doesn't have to coke apple broth for the rest of his days, wouldn't you agree, Benjamin?"

Ben nodded and a small smile played around his mouth at somehow domestic idea. As Washington was about to leave the room, Ben quietly murmured: "Thank you, sir."


	5. Chapter 5

The damn weather was getting worse! Not as bad as on Greenland, but close, if you asked Caleb and there was nobody else to ask right now after all. A storm was brewing over the loyalist shores and not just in a metaphorical, Tallboy way, but in a real one, with lightning and thunder. One could only hope, it wouldn't hit him or Setauket. Bloody storm. Normally wouldn't have taken the boat out in a weather such as this, but this was something important. It was about more than information and a cause, it was about Anna.

Caleb only hoped that the woman hadn't gotten herself into trouble by giving Thomas to him. He grinned, thinking about the Anna he had known as a child. Well, at least not more trouble than normally. It probably was for the best Anna was a woman and therefore not allowed to enlist in the army or she would have driven her superior crazy, of that Caleb was certain. He chuckled at the thought of her and Washington in one room. After this, the man would all but cuddle Ben for his fine behavior, never daring to reprimand Tallboy ever again. His grin widened, but the laugh died as he thought about Abe. For Caleb, the image of Anna was always followed by Abe. The two just belonged together, always had, always would be, but now… Poor Anna! This was probably hard on her, harder than on the rest of them with the exception of Ben maybe. Tallboy always had been an emotional one- and he was good at blaming himself for things.

Caleb ducked lower in the boat as he approached Setauket and wondered if he should risk sneaking into the city to pay Abe's grave his respect and of course to pay them to Ben's father. Bloody redcoats! He really wished they had shot Simcoe on the spot when they had had the chance to do it. That bastard didn't deserve to live, not when good people like Abe were dead.

The wind cut through Caleb's jacket and he cursed lowly. With a weather like this, it might snow any minute. He really longed for a fire right now, but all he had were the waves, that dipped into his boat from time to time. Why hadn't he stolen Ben's coat again? He could use the damn thing right now!

He hid his boat in the same clearing as he had the night before, wary of his surroundings, of every damn shadow and silently made his way to the city then to get a minute with Anna.

As he creeped through the woods, he thought about Anna's words the other day. A riot… What would be left of Setauket? Who else might be dead? He grimaced at the thought, seeing old friends and known faces becoming ghosts in front of his eyes. Who would still be there? Fucking redcoats! He wished he could burn their whole garrison but that would sit right with his mission to keep quiet, not to speak of Washington.

When he reached the outskirts of the town, it was surprisingly silent and peaceful. Caleb had all but expected a battle between Simcoe and the redcoats to take place on the market, some barricades other than their gravestones (bloody redcoat- loving bastard Woodhull), maybe even an open rebellion of the once loyal people but the town was sleeping under a clear sky like a baby in a crib. If he had heard the story from Anna, he wouldn't believe it anymore, maybe even expect a trap, but Anna was something else. That source was true, but still, what was the meaning of all of this?

Maybe it was already over, Caleb thought to himself, as he ducked in the shadows of the former Strong tavern and cursed silently about its new name, sympathizing with Anna and Selah. Trust the redcoats to show injustice in such a manner- and trust judge Woodhull to see it through. He wouldn't be surprised if the bastard got quite a lot of money for the sentence. Greedy fool! One day he would get what he had coming for him. Caleb only hoped it could be him, who would kill the man.

The line on which Anna used to hand petticoats was abandoned, but they hadn't been friends for years without having other ways of letting each other know where they went. The only problem was, that his new plan would require him to venture further into the town and risk exposure. But what else could he do? Anna was quartered in the very house of the Tory bastard and his major after all. Damn it! He ducked into the shadows and ran off towards Whitehall.

Caleb counted the windows of the mansion as soon as he came to a halt in the trees near the building. He knew exactly behind which lay a bedroom and which belonged to whom. Sending messages to Abe when they had been children really cashed out now and therefore, he also knew that there really was only one room that the magistrate would give Anna, of that, Caleb was sure- and he knew exactly where to find it.

The whaler rejoiced when found it and realized that Anna's window was open. That woman! He sometimes wondered if she was able to read minds. He quickly picked up a stone and carved a sigil in it with his hunting knief, one they had often used in their childhood. Ben had discovered it in a book of course and they had used it ever since. Their own little code. Maybe they had been born to be spies. Now, if he could manage to throw the stone through the window without breaking anything or knocking Anna out cold, this might even work. Caleb measured and weighted the stone in his hands. Finding the right angle, he said a quick prayer for reassurance (just to be sure) and then threw the stone.

The stone flew perfectly through the open window- and seemed to hit somebody quite badly, for the groan was even audible where Caleb stood. He winced. "Anna?"

But of course, nobody answered.

Now it was Caleb's turn to groan as he waited silently in the trees. What else should he do right now after all? Damn it, he was supposed to look after Anna, not get her killed himself. He was so deep in thoughts, he nearly missed the figure that slipped through the door and into the shadows, right to where he was standing.

"Caleb?"

The whaler nearly screamed like a little girl. "God, woman, you frightened me."

"What, the big hero, frightened by a woman? Come now, not really!" Her mocking tone was more than audible and made Caleb grumble a reply that wasn't polite at all.

Anna threw a nervous glance back to the house. "Anyways, what are you doing here?"

"The big man wants to know how you are and I want to see how the town is."

At that, she practically jumped at his throat. "You what? Are you mad?"

Caleb blinked. "Whoa… Anna, calm down."

But she did no such thing. "Calm down? You really are mad. What do you think will endanger my position in this town even further? Might be a Continental Lieutenant without a brain."

"You're in danger?"

"No, that was until you came. Now, you knocked over Major Hewlett."

Caleb was already sporting a major grin, when suddenly something broke in upon him. "Hewlett? What was the redcoat doing in your room?"

"Caleb…"

"What?"

Anna sighted. "It was Abe's idea and has helped the cause a great deal so far."

"What?"

"He might entertain certain…", she paused, searching for the right word, "feelings for me."

Caleb blinked. He had guessed many things but this was not one of them. Anna making out with some redcoat for information and Abe being ok with this? That was one big piece of shit. "You're lying", he stated.

But Anna stayed silent.

"God damn it, Anna, tell me you are lying."

She only shrugged but was yet not really able to meet his eyes. "It is a better protection than anything you or Ben or even 711 can give me."

Yeah, but still, it was a redcoat they were talking about and technically, Anna was still married. "Does Selah know."

That really made her cringe. "What do you want to know about the city?"

"Damn the city and the information, Anna, what were you thinking? If Ben knew…"

A dangerous look washed over Annas face and she raised her voice to a precarious level. "Yes, but he doesn't, nor will you tell him Brewster."

"By the love of god, keep quiet, woman, will you?"

But Anna only looked at him challenging what let Caleb sighed after a moment. "Fine! But don't say I haven't warned you. Now, what about Simcoe and the town? Cozy for a riot."

"Stop fooling around", Anna hissed, "there were six deaths, I wouldn't call that cozy."

"Aye, but how many of them wore red?"

"Four and one of the Queen's rangers."

At that Caleb grinned like mad. "That is more than cozy, that is great. Already at each other's throats. Less work for us."

"They killed Ben's farther, remember? I guess that's not what he would call it, Brewster."

That had Caleb sobered in an instance. Bennyboy… He could only imagine what his friend was feeling right now and with Washington around to demand miracles again… The friendly behavior wouldn't last long after all, that was for sure. Caleb's own talk of adoption and all had only been to cheer Tallboy up a bit, more joking than being serious. "Sorry, Anna. You're right."

Her face told him, he was lucky to get away without being smashed onto the back of his head like she used to do back when they had been children- and Lord, that woman was good at hitting. "How is Ben?"

Caleb snorted. "What do you expect? Probably working himself to the ground again and blaming himself for all the wrongdoings of the world." There was no need to talk about the shot wound, not with her.

"Sounds like him", Anna murmured. "And Thomas?"

Caleb shrugged. "How should I know? Child didn't talk with me but he has Tallboy now. Even if he will never have one for himself, saint as he is, the boy is good with kids. Thomas will come around, you'll see."

Suddenly worry crept into Anna's voice. "Abe's farther is looking everywhere for the boy. He didn't really believe me, when I said, that I had been ambushed by Abe's rebel friends and that they took Thomas. He thinks I hid him somewhere."

"But he doesn't think you are a spy as well, does he?", Caleb asked lowly, hand on one of his pistols. "If he does, I will see to it, that that bastard doesn't get any more good people hanged.

Full of gratitude, Anna reached for Caleb's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks, Caleb."

"That wasn't an answer."

But Anna only smiled. Damn it, woman! The fair sex was a lot easier to read between sheets, that was certain.

"Keep Thomas safe, do you hear me?"

"Aye, we will", Caleb grumbled. "But Woodhull…"

"No! Caleb, listen: The judge has lost all sympathies right now and is a mere shadow of his former self. If you kill him though, former accusations will only be proven and the people will not detest him but declare him a martyr. Right now, no one can do me any harm and I'm better off with him living than with a new magistrate, that might snoop around."

"Fine." But Caleb sounded anything but happy. "So, you are safe with your little redcoat. Think I'll smoothen the report a bit for the old man. No need to tell him that!" Still grumbling, Caleb turned around.

"Wait." Anna seized him and pressed something into his hand. "I stole this from Hewlett after your stone knocked him off."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Sneaky little thing. What is it?"

"A sigil ring. I thought you might have a use for it someday."

Caleb grinned at this. "Anna, you really were born for this. But won't he report the loss?"

She merely shrugged at his worried question. "Certainly, but all majors have the same, so doubt the Brits will make several hundred new ones just because Hewlett lost his."

"Probably."

"Now, I managed to overhear the region the rangers are being sent to. They are bound for Boston where they are to join forces with about six hundred men. The Brits want to take the city through a list that the rangers shall provide."

At that, Caleb grabbed Anna nearly as firm as she him. "What list?"

"I don't know. But they seem to know that Boston is quite defenseless right now."

Shit! They had another traitor in their midst. "I have to go. Be careful, Anna, and thank you."

"Wait!"

Caleb turned around sighting. "I have to go, woman! Really, Anna, sometimes I'm nearly about to forget my manners and hit you like you deserve it!"

"Good.", Anna stated calmly. "Then it shouldn't be any problem for you that I was about to ask exactly that from you."

Caleb looked as shocked as if Anna had hit him. "You what?"

"The sigil ring is missing, isn't it? Do you think they believe me, when I tell them, you asked nicely for it? I'll say, you hit me and I bolted, so you couldn't touch me further."

The story was good and it even strengthened her cover, so… His hand landed hard on her face, sending her tumbling into the dirt. Problem was, he couldn't hide his grin quick enough.

"You enjoyed that."

Caleb tried to stop grinning. "Everything for the cause."

"Give Ben my condolences."

Caleb nodded and left Anna there, in front of Whitehall. Condolences… He was sure, Ben liked them just as much as he had, back when his uncle had been shot in front of him. Like fucking hell!


	6. Chapter 6

Washington stood in the door to the kitchen and didn't know whether to laugh or scream at the scene in front of him. Shaking his head, he entered into the battlefield of apples, sugar and broth. "Martha", he scrolled, trying to hold back his laughter, "do you want to stuff him with apple broth till it comes out of his ears or do you simple spoil him like a little prince?" Even though there was no denying that young Thomas did have a princeling's looks.

"But I like apples", was Thomas simple reply and with that, he silenced the great general of the Continental army in a heartbeat. A rare sign and never achieved by around his staff.

As Thomas happily ate away his apple broth, Martha came over to her husband and Ben. The woman had a soft smile on her lips that made her nearly glow with happiness. Washington nearly cringhed at the sight.

"Sir?", Ben asked quietly, having picked up his general's discomfort, but Washington hushed him with a hand.

"My love, Major", Martha greeted them still smiling.

Ben bowed slightly and was about to give the two some privacy, when Mrs. Washington suddenly reached for his hand. He stiffened yet again, but Lady Washington only had a smile for him. "You hardly ate, Major, and George warned me, that you are not well at the moment, but could I get you to eat a bit of the broth yourself? I'm afraid it is rather sweet, but some sugar will probably do you good." At that point, she was looking at his cheekbones, that were sharper than they used to be- a lot sharper. A look of sympathy crossed her face.

Ben wanted to decline, but Washington interjected, before the major could say a word, obviously fearing for exactly that answer. "We will all have some or I'm afraid, Thomas will burst from all the broth, won't we, Major?" He looked at the young man with a glare that gave no room for discussion and so Ben silently accepted the broth, wondering if that was some kind of fantasy his grief-stricken mind had created. A reminder how normal domestic live used to be. Before the war. Before he was alone.

Thomas soon was more playing with his spoon than eating, yawning now and then but still happy like a child should be. The yawns seemed contagious and Ben felt himself growing tired himself or maybe it only was the last night catching up with him. He was so occupied with surpressing a yawn of his own, he nearly missed Mrs. Washington's question. "So, do tell me, Major: Did you leave a girl back in your hometown? Or maybe around Yale?"

Ben coughed, nearly choking on his spoon of apple broth while Thomas giggled happily as if this was all a joke. "Pardon, Madame", he finally managed to say between gasps for breath.

"No harm done, Major. So, do you?" She smiled at him warmly.

The question had his face heat up and it was- to Ben's great surprise- Washington, who saved him from the answer. "Don't tell me, you have yet another young daughter of own of a your friends who is in need of a husband."

The couple entertained themselves with a few stories about a Susan Bowen and a Catherine Higgins, leaving Ben a few minutes to gain his composure back. Marriage… The question was bitter sweet. It was something his father had asked him quite often himself.

Ben, do you have a girl…

Ben, when will I get a grandchild…

Ben, when will you start talking to girls that aren't Anna Strong…

He swallowed thickly, the broth suddenly tasteless, despite the amount of sugar in it.

A hand suddenly laid on his arm. "Are you all right, Benjamin?"

The young major only nodded and prayed his general wouldn't question him further. He had told Ben to come to him whenever he had a problem but Ben wouldn't be as stupid as to come back to it, especially not because of this. He was a grown man after all, no child and so he put a smile on his face behind which he hid and mechanically ate the rest of his broth, while Martha Washington hummed a lullaby for Thomas, that had him sleeping within minutes. So he was bad with kids!

When Ben had finally left the mansion with a sleeping Thomas in his arms, curled into him like a cat, Martha turned around to her husband, who was again studying a map of the colonies, the late hour all but forgotten. "A sweet boy you got there."

Washington looked up from his plan to take York City back, the wooden brick that represented the French army still in his hands, and smiled fondly. "I thought you might like to meet him. A sweet child indeed." His voice became even softer as he continued. "After all, I know how much you wish for children, Martha."

A look of sympathy washed over her features. "George, we've been over this."

But nothing she had ever said, could chase away the sadness in his eyes, whenever he saw her interacting with a child. His wife was born to be a mother, was born to play with a child, raise it. Not because he needed an heir, he had done enough things himself to make his name survive after all and he would never be selfish enough to demand a child for himself that she had to raise alone for the sole purpose of having an heir. No, he didn't want a child for himself, he wanted it for her, for her happiness. It only pained him more that she tried to comfort him over his inability to give her one. "He needs a home, the boy I mean. Without any parents or guardians, he will not get old, not here", Washington began quietly.

Martha smiled unconsciously as she thought back. "He has this major of yours."

At that her husband chuckled. "Exactly, he is a major, not a nanny. He has other duties."

"George, please! Tell me you don't want to force the boy to give the child up only for the war's sake."

The French army in his hand was all but forgotten as he sighted heavily. His vision shifted to the window from where he could see the army outside the mansion camping. Hundreds of tents. "He wouldn't be the first to leave behind a child, Martha. This is war, after all."

"Yes, but the other kids have a mother or a family that can tend their needs. You cannot abandon a child that your very war has made an orphan. He has no girl or wife that could take care of Thomas."

"Martha!", Washington groaned, "What do you expect me to do? Order him to marry? The good boy would be mortified- as am I from this idea, no matter how pretty your friend's daughter. He is a major, not a… I won't marry him off for the boy's sake."

Martha stepped into his line of view and blocked it effectively. "That is not what I meant and you knew it."

"I know, my love, but what else can I do? Why must everything nowadays be so difficult? Not even the happiness of a child is easy to look after, everything is tied to this war that will not end. The lives of my men, their families, their happiness… If it would just end! And I know York City is the key to it, Martha, I know it. But how do I take it?"

The French army was pealed out of Washington's hands and fingers intertwined themselves with his. "Stop this never-ending talk about war, will you? Just for night. For me."

Washington groaned, as his wife's other hand ventured further down, over his breast and abdomen, still lower. "Martha!"

She smiled when his hands came up to cup her cheek.

"I love you my dear, I really do", he breathed into her hair as she stroked him lightly, a touch of pure love, softer than even the finest silk.

"Then forget the war for an hour, will you?"

The general, much different from his normal stubbornness when it came to negotiations, was more than happy to agree on this surrender.

Later, when they lay together in bed, arms wrapped around each other, Washington stroked the hair of his wife lightly. She nestled closer to him and he watched her smiling face, again deep in thoughts. "You really did like Thomas, didn't you?"

A finger was laid over his lips to hush any further words, that spoke only of his guilt, of the marriage, that would remain childless, of her home that would never be filled with the bright laughter of an heir to their name. "I have you! Sometimes, that is like having a toddler."

He grinned despite himself. The insult that would have seen others whipped spoke only of her very character. Bold and clever and never afraid to tell him the truth, no matter how ugly it was. If she would be a man, he would make her his second in command. He places a kiss onto her brow and for once just cherished the moment of happiness, of lightheartedness. "Am I so bad? Maybe then I shouldn't let you near my officers anymore out of fear you could tell them. A fine mess that would make."

She clapped his shoulder lightly but it only made him laugh more. "Well, you certainly never outgrew your love for playing with wooden brinks. Only now, you call it planning a war."

He cupped her face again but suddenly his expression was very serious. "You know, Martha, maybe I can't give you an own child, one of our blood, but…"

"George", she warned, but he caught her hand as she tried to silence him again.

"Let me finish, Martha, please", he said quickly and then, only after she nodded, sighingly maybe but nodded, he continued. "We could adopt a child so you could at least have some joys of motherhood- that is if you want." He added quickly.

Martha looked at him stunned. "What?"

"Forget it", Washington quickly said, nearly fleeing the bed to go back to his plans, suddenly understanding how his young officers must feel around him whenever they made a stupid suggestion and he silenced them with a glare, but his wife caught him, before he could bolt.

"George, look at me."

He ran a hand over his hair, smiling a bit unhappy as he tried to be the calm general, he so easily played around his man. But, truth be told, he was anxious like a young boy summoned for the first time. "What is it, my dear? I apologize, if I caused you distress…"

"That was the reason for this dinner, wasn't it?", she simply stated. "Thomas."

Washington sighted, thinking back to the sad eyes of his head of intelligence, who even missed a bleeding strong enough to let him faint in front of his general and then told said general he was fine. And he thought of the last Epiphany before the war. All their friends gathered at Mount Vernont, children running around and young couples dancing through the halls- and Martha looking at the little bundles with so much joy and pain it nearly killed him. "Part of it", he finally agreed softly.

"So, you found us a grandchild", Martha all but laughed.

Washington blinked bewildered. "Child, my dear. I think I would know if had adopted the farther of the boy. Or are we already so old as to only be able to be called grandparents?"

But at this, Martha only smiled- that was until she suddenly sobered rather abruptly. "What about the major?"

Washington blinked, bewildered at the sudden mention of his head of intelligence. "What do you mean, my dear? What about him?"

"So you do want to take the child away from him." It nearly sounded like an accusation.

Washington sighted. "He is young, without a wife or mother to tend to the boy and right now more in the need of a father than a son. It pains me to say it, but they both might be better of without each other. A safe home away from the camp is what Thomas needs and as for Ben… The boy doesn't need more people he has to pretend around. Thomas would always just remind him of his failure."

"You still have to ask him. Right now, he is the guardian of the boy."

Washington sighted. "Fine, I'll ask him. Eventhough it will make now difference. Most of the time, the boy is like a puppy after all we had back home. Always happy to be loyal and serve- even though he sometimes is a but shortsighted and stubborn."

"A trait you liked at the dog very much."

Washington huffed, not willing to admit anything right now. "I'll ask him, don't worry. But what about you? Do you like the idea?"

"Thomas Washington…" Martha smiled. "No, Thomas Washington- Tallmadge."

It sounded ridiculous- but strangely right. Still… "I think Washington is surname enough. He can have a second given name on the adoption papers after all. Thomas Benjamin Washington is a far better name- even though I'm afraid the very idea will have our major blush scarlet again. Maybe we will have to settle for Samuel after all. Just to warn you in case you really want to see this plan through."

"Thomas Benjamin Washington… I like the sound of that. Do you think he will be happy with us?"

Washington suddenly couldn't stop himself from smiling. He hoped so, he really did- and he hoped Benjamin would be happy with the arrangement as well. He hoped so for all of them. And it would not be their grandchild they would raise for another boy, wouldn't it? Tiredly, he wondered if it actually mattered.


	7. Chapter 7

Ben rose with a groan the next morning at the first signs of sunrise to make his round through camp. He dressed, still wincing as he stretched to get his shirt over his head. To be honest, his rips still hurt like hell and in the shine of the lantern he discovered his side was covered in an extensive bruise that showed no signs of fading anytime soon. Is fingers traced over the purple color, tender to the touch. He stopped, as he accidently touched a broken rip. Audibly sucking the air in to stop himself from crying out, he panted what felt like an eternity till his heartbeat had slowed down again and the pain had subsided. He probably shouldn't fight for a couple of days if not absolutely necessary, he pondered.

His thoughts wondered back to last night. The dinner. The talk with Washington. For a moment, he considered asking a leave of the Commander in Chief, light duty, just to give his rips a few more days to heal probably, but he overruled it quickly. Washington needed him at his best, he had told him that much, not wining like a child. The general had shown him kindness enough, now he had to repay the given trust and concern. After all, he wasn't Arnold or Lafayette, who were dear friends or important allies, not even Hamilton, he was a simple major and dragoon.

He looked over to his cot, where Thomas was still sleeping, little hands curled around the blanket. Concern was bubbling up in Ben for he didn't need to step outside to know it was freezing. Even inside the tent the air was chilly. The boy would get a cold, if not even the grip with this weather. One needed any warmth they could get right now. Silently, Ben took the woolen cloak from his shoulders and tucked it over the small form. "Sleep a bit more, will you, Thomas?"

The child just snuggled into the warmth and sighted. Ben hopped for the boy that his dream was a pleasant one- and hopefully not about his parents. After all, the grieve had just been forgotten for a day and the young major dreaded the moment it would return. How could he ever make up for this? He had taken everything away from the boy, every safety, every comfort and family, even his real name. How could he actually look the boy in the eye? Ben sighted, rubbing his cold fingers together. Little steps! The round, breakfast, reports… Maybe Caleb would be back around midday. God, please let him be back, he almost pleaded- and please let Anna be alright. With one last look over to Thomas, Ben stepped into the freezing coldness outside.

The first snow had finally fallen and it was more than any of them had anticipated. The Privates on duty hadn't even cleared the passageways between the tents yet and so Ben tramped through the untouched snow, inspecting the camp.

He picked up the new letters he had received and sent one of his man to the village, where he had said that the deserters would have been sent. Duty done, he went to get a meager breakfast and slipped the cook, an old sergeant with a crippled right arm, a coin for an extra for Thomas.

The Sergeant on duty snorted, inspecting the coin in the firelight. "For you son, aye? Didn't pick ya the type to woo the girls, Tallmadge. Caleb told us ya always have been such a prude. Guess ya became a man after all."

Ben shifted uncomfortable, only the cold preventing the telltale blush to creep upon his cheeks. "Are you finished, Sergeant?"

The man only huffed and pointed his breadknife at Ben. "Pretty boy ya are, Tallmadge, but kids are not allowed here. What did ya do, that the old man allowed it?"

"I don't think…"

"Oi, thinking has nothing to do with it, aye? As I said, pretty ya are. All baby blue eyes and rosy cheeks. His type, aye? A lot of your kind here lately."

Ben felt disgust and anger rise in him. So they were back on the old accuse again, the one Bradford had used, the one Washington's enemies and enviers always told as a truth. How dared that man to raise a voice against their commander in chief, their only hope against the British? Washington was too good and noble to have his name dragged through the mire! That was an insult, Ben would never let pass. "You will take that back, Sergeant, or I will have you flogged!"

The man only snorted. "Yeah? You wanna flog the whole camp?"

Ben's hands curled into fists. It would be so easy. He could blame everything on that insult against the general and just let his anger and fear go, unleash it. Just letting go for one small moment. It boiled inside him, higher and higher. Than he remembered his farther. The things he preached, he had taught him. And e remembered Washington's disapproving stare after the incident with Bradford. Ben's hands trembled as he uncurled them. "I could start with you, Sergeant. Or maybe I will bring you before Washington to repeat the insult and let him judge himself."

At that, the man went pale as a ghost. Washington wasn't known for mercy- and he had a temper. Nothing, the man wanted to experience first handed it seemed. Stammering, he went for an excuse.

"Thought as much." Ben took the meager meal and returned wordlessly to his tent, suddenly only miserable and cold. He wasn't even sure himself why, but he felt like crying. What would his father think about the man he had become?

He entered his tent and set the plate down. His fingers were numb from the frosty wind and he blew some warm air on the, to get a bit of a feeling back.

Was the man a threat? Was the mood in the camp low and rebellious enough to be a threat to Washington? Ben tried to think, but his head seemed to slow, to heavy. Should he report this to Washington or would it only earn him another lecture like the last time Ben only had concerns for his safety and no intelligence to report. Tiredly, he rested it into his hands and wondered, what to make of all of this, of him. He only realized from where he knew the feeling, when he unconsciously reached for the letter he had kept in the little bible next to his pillow.

Dear Damon,

He traced the words with his fingers, knowing now that they were leis. Nathan hadn't been sent to Boston for a promotion but to York City, into enemy territory- as a spy. He had died there. It had been his last and only lie to his friend, but regardlessly Ben treasured the letter like nothing else. Dead… Tears silently rolled over his cheeks. Nathan was dead, just like Abe or his brother or his father. A sob tore itself from Ben's throat and he quickly silenced himself with a hand, that he all but pressed into his mouth while he cried. He hadn't known he had so many tears.

"Can I have more apple broth?"

The question startled Ben more than anything. Quickly, he tried to wipe away the tears, to look normal and pretend to be happy, so the boy would have at least that much normality, but he wasn't sure how well he managed. "I'm sorry, Thomas, but there aren't any apples today. I have some bread and cheese for you though."

The boy's fist came down on the cot. "I want apples!"

Not a temper tantrum, Ben begged silently, please no! Thomas uncle used to have them, Ben remembered. Even the judge couldn't stand the boy at these moments and that was something to behold for the man had been literally crazy for Thomas senior. How should he handle this? "Thomas, please!", Ben tried to reason with the boy. "Just eat your breakfast, will you? Be a good boy."

But Thomas, sweet Thomas who had been so well behaved yesterday at the Washington's house, now screamed his displeasure out like a little siren. "No! I want apples."

Ben bit his lip, his hands suddenly slick with sweat. He fired it was something totally different the boy actually wanted. Apples and breakfast were just the one thing that had all this tipped. "Thomas… Thomas please. We don't have apples. If I would have one, I would give it to you, I promise, but I don't have any."

"Yesterday there were. Why not now? Want apples."

Yesterday… Yesterday he had been with the Washingtons, a couple of money and status, that could afford these things even in war times. But they weren't here now. Lady Washington had been kind him, maybe really just spoilt him, and it was not the boys fault to think, that the luxuries he had tasted there would continue. Add to that, that the boy had lost everything, including a home and a well-laid table every day, it probably was only normal, he couldn't understand the sudden constrains. Ben was well aware of this, of all of this. Thomas was only two after all! But how was Ben supposed to explain this now? How could he make Thomas smile again? Certainly not with dry bread and cheese. Ben pinched the back of his nose and felt his own tears form in his eyes, utter helplessness settling over him. "Thomas, I sorry. But why don't you try a bit of the food? Just a bite?"

But Thomas was only hiccupping now, tears rolling down his cheeks without retrains and he looked so sad, so miserable, that Ben was only a heartbeat away from rowing the child back to Setauket. Better a little soldier to the Tories in a war that he was too young to fight in than a miserable child, hungry and lonely. God, what had Anna been thinking? What had anyone of them been thinking? Ben fought against the tears, the helplessness, but it was a losing battle. "You have to eat, Thomas", he finally managed to say.

"Don't want to eat!", Thomas screamed, his high voice piercing into Ben's ears and then, suddenly very softly: "Want Mommy."

This undid Ben. A silent sob broke free and soon he was shaken by them, tears running down his face. What had he done? What on earth had he done? "I'm sorry, Thomas. I'm sorry, my boy."

"Where's daddy?"

That sob couldn't even be silenced by the hand Ben had pressed over his mouth again. Abe… Daddy…

"They are gone, Thomas", he murmured softly, "God, what have I done?" Ben left the whole plate on the bed untouched. no matter the coin it had cost him. His appetite was gone.

With an effort that made the small task look ridiculous, Ben opened the first of his letters, reading over the love letter of a Miss Emma Simmons, a pseudonym of their man in Philadelphia, but he had problems to apply the code of his own design. It took thrice the time to get the message decoded.

Several Congressmen paid for the vote on Washington's fate and surrender to the British because of a defeat in Boston.

Ben's brow furrowed. Boston? There was no war in Boston! It was far away from the front- and therefore there was also no continental army in Boston… What… No! He was out of the tent in a heartbeat. He needed to see the general. Now!

"Careful, Major Tallmadge." The deep baritone of none other than George Washington suddenly rang in his ears as Ben stumbled to the ground. He had, in the truest sense of the word, ran right into the general.

He looked up at the general frozen in place like a deer in the light. "Sir, I apologize sincerely for…"

Washington waved him off and held out a hand for him. "Get up, Major."

Ben quickly followed the command and, to his great surprise, Washington didn't bark an execration at him for not being more careful as Ben had expected, but all but cupped his face, studying the tearstained cheeks of his young officer. Concern flickered in his eyes. "Are you in pain, Major?"

Ben swallowed whatever tears and pain he still felt and shook his head, looking at the floor rather than at Washington. Shame was burning in his face and still there were tears on his cheeks. A fine mess he was right now.

"Major?"

The boats of his Excellency were rather fascinating- not that he was actually seeing them. All he was seeing where the faces of the people he had doomed and still Thomas cry for his parents rang in his ears.

It was only when Washington rushed into the tent that Ben realized, that Thomas really was still crying. It hadn't just been his imagination and now he even failed so rather obviously in this task.

"Hush now, little one, all is right."

When Ben entered the tent, he saw Washington sitting next to the boy, an arm around the little form and soothing the child- and Thomas did calm down.

"Want mommy, want apples." Thomas hiccupped again. "Want… want…"

"I know, little one. I know", murmured Washington into Thomas soft wisps of hair while he hugged the small boy close. His eyes fell to the coat, the boy still had as a second blanket. No snow on it, not even damp. Washington sighted. It was for the better. Ben would kill himself over this boy and still not achieve what he wanted. The untouched plait didn't escape the general either. Now they were both not eating.

Washington looked up when he heard the major enter and gestured to the chair. "Benjamin. Sit, we have to talk."

And there it was, what Ben had been dreading. The intelligence he just had received all but forgotten. "Sir."

Wordlessly, Washington set the plate in Ben's lap with one hand, the other still stroking young Thomas hair. Ben looked down at the food at reluctantly picked a slice of bread up, chewing on it mechanically, the task of swallowing all but forgotten.

"I came here today to ask something of you, Benjamin." Washington began, intentionally not using the young man's rank. He didn't want to make it an order, it wouldn't be fair.

Ben looked up from the slice of bread he still held in his fingers and then over to Thomas. So, it had been about the boy. Of course it had been. Naïve, he had been so naïve.

Soothed by Washington and with an empty stomach, Thomas little fingers unsurely came forwards to take a piece of bread for himself of the plate, but Ben simply held the cheese out for him. The bread was hard, too hard for the boy. He would have something better soon. Apples as much as he wanted- and a new mother and father. Why not give him this last thing he was able to give?

"…beat you up over this." Ben wasn't sure how much he had missed of Washington's speech to him, but it didn't matter anyways, he thought. Ben knew the end already.

"…fine man and you did honorably. You know, that it isn't possible for Thomas to stay here, don't you?"

Ben heard the sergeant again, the vicious words, the insult against Washington. An insult that could quickly grow to a more dangerous thing. Special treatment was something they could not have, he was well aware of that. It occurred to Ben a few seconds later, that maybe he should have pleaded with the general, that he should have asked for a favor. He had saved the man many times, bleed and killed for him. It wouldn't be impossible for Washington to grant this wish. Maybe he should have begged- but he didn't find it in himself when he looked at Thomas huddled form, leaning into Washington, maybe to seek closeness, maybe only warmth. Did it matter? He thought he had the choice between seeing him suffer here and bringing him back to the care of the man who had seen to his family's murder. "You can have him", he whispered.

Washington stopped in the middle of his sentence and starred at Ben. He had played this over in his head many times. He had wondered how his young head of intelligence would react, dreaded this talk more than a hanging or a speech to congress for it could very well destroy the new base of their friendship.

It was an unusual request, of that he had been aware. He had no bonds to the child or his family other than being able to provide for the boy and wishing for a child. He had Ben imagined to be angry, maybe hurt. He had thought about arguments and any other reaction that would match Ben's temper, the fire the man sometimes had in his eyes, but he had never thought, that Ben would cut through his praise for the very man, a praise Ben had always so actively sought, with a quiet voice and see right to the bottom of his wish.

"Benjamin… Are you certain? You look", Washington was suddenly in desperate need of a dictionary. The boy looked lost, broken and somehow still relieved. "I will not force this upon you."

Ben shrugged but he didn't really meet Washington's eyes. "It is the best for the boy. Any formalities you will require I will fulfill."

Washington sighted deeply. That was the kind of talk you had before an execution, but not now. Debating with himself rather it was the right action, he threw caution in the wind and reached for Ben's hand. "You can always back out of this. We will raise him as a ward. Your child- and your name. Or his family's name if you want"

Ben looked up from the plate he had been studying while the general spoke and looked at Thomas as if he had to remember him by heart. He had his mother's bright hair, Ben noticed, a woman he had only ever met so briefly and who only knew him as the monster that had invaded their hometown. What would she think of this? Would she have liked him more, given the circumstances of another first meeting? And Thomas had Abe's mischievous grin. Abe, who had refused his father's help for himself but always given in when it was for Thomas best. Ben suddenly wondered if his father had baptized the boy. He wondered about Setauket- and he thought of the war, the next battle, the coming winter and of apples. "No!", he finally said. "I will give you the boy and my only request in this matter is that you will adopt him properly and treat him like your own- as a farther."

Washington winced at the mention of these words again. What had he been thinking? Was it his sickness or his temper that had lashed out at the boy this day? At the only person always loyal, always willing to sacrifice himself for the cause, for him. Washington reached for Ben's other hand, the one that still held onto the dried bread of which he hadn't eaten more than that one bite. What to do? How to mend this?

Ben stiffened at the touch, but remained silent. Silent yet again, the fiery youth all but gone.

Washington now even wished for an argument. Anything but this broken shell, where he wasn't able to figure out how to put the pieces back together. It didn't even occur to him, that it wasn't his task to do so in the first place. He was Ben's general after all, nothing more. "I am always there for those dear to my heart."

Ben nodded and got up, setting the plate aside. Washington briefly wondered if he should hold the young man back, make him talk, but it was of no use he realized. Maybe the return of his friend would give Ben some closure in the whole matter, some assistance that Washington couldn't give him. He certainly hoped so.

The general blinked surprised when Ben returned with a letter in his hands. "Intelligence out of Philadelphia, sir. I'm afraid, it is rather bad."

Washington toke the letter with a quick thank-you, scanning it for the intelligence. He paused after reading the report, slowly dropping the letter. "How much do you trust this spy, Major?"

"He has never let me down, sir."

Washington looked down at the letter again and then up at Ben, a worn expression on his face. "Will this ever end?"

"You will see to it, sir."

Again this believe, this loyalty. There was even a hint of Ben's old ardor in his eyes, probably the only good thing that would come of this. "No, Major, we will see to it. Will you defend Boston with me?"

A small smile tugged at the major's lips as he inclined his head. A sight that filld Washington with a joy he couldn't explain, not even to himself. "It would be an honor, your Excellency."

"Good!" Washington stood up, pealing Thomas fingers of the major's coat. The boy needed it himself after all. "I expect the report of your courier by you soon. We need all the intelligence we can get on this. Till then." He inclined his head in a gesture of farewell, took Thomas little hand in his own and went off.

"I want ..."

But Ben didn't hear Thomas wish anymore. He would never hear the voice again. The child would be raised sheltered at Mount Vernont from now on, safe from all the troubles of the world and by the hand of a lovely lady. If he would still have it in himself, he would thank god for this small mercy. He knew, he should do it, but he couldn't bring himself to do so, no matter how much he knew it was the best for the boy. Ben silently slid to the ground and picked up the wooden ship, that Thomas had forgotten. Ben had carved his mother's name into it. The Mary.

It was for the best of the boy! But he couldn't stop the lone tear that made it down his cheek as he went back to his desk to


End file.
